


Frozen Wind, Frozen Heart

by VenomQuill



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, Ko'Junar is a khajiit Dragonborn, can you imagine a khajiit who hates sunlight?, major spoilers for Dawnguard, that's like a fish who hates swimming!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-27 07:45:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16698310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenomQuill/pseuds/VenomQuill
Summary: Ko'Junar, under order of Isran, investigated Dimhollow crypt. Although Ko'Junar had never been one to tangle with vampires, she was one who was interested in funding her trip back to Elsweyr. But buried in the crypt swarming with vampires was not a treasure of gold or weapon or coin, but rather a young vampire holding an Elder Scroll. Unable to resist helping the young woman to her family, Ko'Junar finds herself helping Serana back to her family.





	Frozen Wind, Frozen Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Find it on dA: [Frozen Wind, Frozen Heart"](http://fav.me/dcsv4qy)

Snowflakes drifted on the wind, settling on the grass, the stone, the ice, and the ocean. The frozen ground crunched under two sets of feet and four large hooves. The one in lead, a tall, rather wiry khajiit cloaked in golden, layered armor, strode forward, ears pricked and eyes flicking between the castle in the distance and the broken dock at the end of their land.

She shuttered in the cold and her gaze drifted along the choppy sea and icy land. Though only a few brave flakes of snow danced in the wind, Ko’Junar knew this was only a taste of the coming storm. She gave a small glance back at her gray mottled horse. Thick muscles expanded and contracted beneath his soft, thick fur and skin. The equine let out a snort, causing mist to puff before his nose.

Beside her, thin footsteps matching Ko’Junar’s stride-for-stride was a young woman. Although her armor was by no means insulated–in fact, she wore little other than robes with fancifully enchanted pieces of armor around the chest and wrists–she did not shiver in the cold. Although at one point this would have given the khajiit a curious pause, she knew the answer to this unasked question: vampires do not get cold.

Finally, as the silent ones made it to the old, worn dock, they stopped. Ko’Junar’s tail twitched nervously as she surveyed the meek boat tethered to the broken planks, and then the choppy expanse of water and ice they’d have to cross to get to the giant castle-island. She felt the silver fur along her neck prickle and stand on end.

Serena was the one to break the silence. “This is the place.”

“Khajiit sees the island…” Ko’Junar agreed slowly. “But khajiit sees that the boat is small and may be old and weathered.”

“It’s our only way there.”

The khajiit nodded reluctantly. “Yes, that is true.” Although the thought of hiring a ferry crossed her mind, she banished the thought. They had passed Solitude long ago. So long ago that the night had fallen, and they had been forced to seek shelter under the crags to keep the snow out of her fur. It had helped that they traveled a longer, narrow trail in the mountains to pass a Thalmor fort that Ko’Junar had previously attacked in order to find missing people.

But now the sun was behind the clouds rather than beneath the ground. Now, she must trust in the strength of the small boat, especially now that she tasted a storm on the wind.

With a small sigh, Ko’Junar approached the vessel. “Khajiit tests the boat for safeness.” She set her foot on the wood, tensing as if to spring back. But the boat did not crumple into splintered wood sink into the water. Ko’Junar slowly lifted her grounded foot up and set it in the boat. Her ears flicked forward. She turned her head to meet Serana’s gaze. “The boat is safe!” Serana gave a small smile, as if amused by the frightened khajiit’s excitement. Although it was to Serana’s home they traveled, Ko’Junar stayed in control of the boat. Serana did not know of the Cyrodiil Empire. She might not remember how to control a boat properly!

Ko’Junar prompted, hoping her voice didn’t shake, “So, Ko’Junar desires to ask of your home. May she ask?”

Serana shifted, uncomfortable with that question just like the half a dozen others Ko’Junar asked to pass the time. “It’s my family home. Not the most welcoming place, but depending on who’s around, I’ll be safe there.”

Ko’Junar cocked her head. “Someone you do not want to see?”

“My father and I don’t really get along,” Serana explain, and then groaned. “Ugh, saying it out loud makes it sound so… common. ‘Little girl who doesn’t get along with her father.’ Read that story a hundred times.”

“Ko’Junar heard that story, too!” the khajiit purred, trying to keep optimism in her words.

The boat shuttered as the waves changed. Ko’Junar stopped the boat next to the rotten dock. Hardly after the boat was tied, Ko’Junar’s booted paws were on dry, frozen land. She took a few steps back and shook the snow from her whiskers as Serana got out of the boat, too. Ko’Junar looked around at her surroundings. Her tail flicked more insistently, and she twitched her ears. Crowing of birds could be heard above the castle. In fact, she saw a few circling over the island. Although the joy at seeing a hawk and the rush of excitement in hunting the birds as they flew normally calmed her, it only made her warier. These creatures didn’t soar; they flapped and glided sluggishly in the sky like trash in a clogged stream.

The khajiit turned her attention back to Serana. “So, this is your home?”

“Yep. Home sweet… castle.” There was reluctance in her words, now.

Ko’Junar nodded. “Yes, khajiit thinks it’s impressive.” _Much more impressive than her own home!_

“Yeah, it’s really something.”

Ko’Junar led them up the snowy ground, passing a large rock and a tall, weather-worn tower, to cross a rather wide stone bridge. The khajiit’s skin prickled as she looked over the frozen gargoyles. After taking Serana from her tomb and helping her away, multiple stone creatures had burst from their shells and attacked with savage claws that drained her energy and fierce, long teeth like that of an orc’s and a saber tooth tiger mixed together. Thankfully, these ones didn’t burst to life to attack them. Nonetheless, she stroked the lower limb of her yellow, intricate bow and found comfort in its presence.

“Hey, so… before we go in there…” Serana’s voice snapped Ko’Junar back to reality and the khajiit stopped. Serana’s tone had dipped lower, if that were possible for the vampire.

“Are you alright?” Ko’Junar asked, her nervousness at their surroundings pushed aside for the sake of the other who felt nervousness.

Serana hesitated. “Yeah. And… thanks for asking.” Soon enough, her surprise melted as quickly as the late spring snow. “I want to thank you for helping me this far. But after we get in there… I’m going to go my own way for a while. I think…” Serana let her words trail off, her eyes narrowing a bit in thought. She shook it off and continued, “I know your friends would probably want to kill everything in here. I’m hoping you can show some more control than that. Once we’re inside, just keep quiet for a bit. Let me take the lead.”

Ko’Junar took a step to the side with a respectful nod, careful to keep silent. Sometimes, Ko’Junar’s words are good and necessary. But now was not one of those times.

Suddenly, a shout came from behind the bars of the gate at the end of the bridge. “Lady Serana’s back! Open the gate!” Suddenly, the wood-and-metal bars before them lifted to reveal the giant doors behind them, and the man in leather armor who stood between the gate and door. The silver-haired, grizzled man watched as they passed, though most of his focus seemed to fall on Serana.

Serana opened the door. Immediately, a wave of heat burst through the doors and banished the chill Ko’Junar felt. The khajiit more eagerly followed, subtly stepping closer to one of the fire pits that brought heat and light to the area near the door. Ice and snow that crusted her metal, elven armor melted upon getting too close. The warm smell of raw meat greeted them.

A hard voice snapped, “How dare you trespass here!”

Ko’Junar jumped and looked up. They were in a small hallway of sorts with walls replaced by large cubbies in which he meandered. The new man was elven with yellowish skin and stark white hair. Yet he didn’t look very old. The grayish armor he wore bore a resemblance to Serana’s, if less decorated, and the elven sword at his hip and commanding tone was a clear warning of the threat he posed. However, as soon as the anger came, it went. “Wait… Serana? Is that truly you? I cannot believe my eyes!”

A warmth greater than the fire near her bloomed in Ko’Junar’s heart at the greeting. Although not directed at her, it was nice to see a person welcomed into a home so quickly and heartily.

Suddenly, the man turned and ran to the balcony at the end of the short hallway. He exclaimed and threw his hands into the air to draw more attention to himself, “My lord! Everyone! Serana has returned!”

Serana glanced at Ko’Junar. “I guess I’m expected,” she huffed, though her voice was warm with humor, now. She walked and Ko’Junar followed. She followed to the balcony and then to the left set of stairs that spiraled down on either side of the balcony. The vampire who greeted her was already gone, taking his place near the table. Ko’Junar’s eyes went wide. Suddenly, the warm meaty scents she had smelled before became worse with the stink of blood… mortal blood. Flesh and bones and cases and flagons of blood decorated the long tables. Vampires swarmed like geckoes, participating in the meal, but keeping one eye one their leader, who now stood in the large space between the long tables. A skinny black hound with overlarge teeth and skin that seeped chilly air rather than fur strode past. It’s eyes, black as the void with glowing blue pupils, carried past Serana and lingered on Ko’Junar for a second as it passed. Ko’Junar let out an involuntary shiver at it’s closeness.

A voice, soft but carrying through the massive dining hall, called, “My long-lost daughter returns at last! I trust you have the Elder Scroll?” The voice brought Ko’Junar out of her sickness. She ducked her head and followed Serana. Though, a different type of revulsion rose up like bile. The first thing he says and it’s prompting her about the artifact she had?

“After all these years, that’s what you ask me?” Serana asked, her voice sharp. “Yes, I have the scroll.”

Mutterings passed through the crowd. _“She has the scroll!” “Serana’s returned!”_ laced a few of the mutterings.

“Of course, I’m delighted to see you, my daughter. Must I really say the words aloud?” He set a hand on his chin, his sharp golden eyes soft… a fake soft like a male lion looking after his son who was old enough to leave. He sighed, his smile widening. “Ah, if only your traitor mother was here. I’d let her watch this reunion before putting her head on a spike.”

Ko’Junar tensed and her gaze flicked between the father and daughter. Serana shifted at the mention of her mother, but gave no emotion other than cool neutrality, underlined by her suspicious, hurt narrowed eyes.

“Now tell me, who is this stranger you brought into our hall?” the man went on, not once turning to look at Ko’Junar. Whether she should be insulted or relieved, she did not know.

Serana looked at the khajiit and tipped her head toward her, a sign that she recognized Ko’Junar’s presence. “This is my savior, the one who freed me.”

Now the man took attention, his eyes brightening as they turned on the khajiit. “For my daughter’s safe return, you have my gratitude,” the man started. “Tell me, what is your name?”

The khajiit answered, “This one’s name is Ko’Junar.”

“I am Harkon, lord of this court,” Lord Harkon answered, pride causing his chest to swell a bit and a sliver of his fangs to show beneath his lips in the curled grin. “By now, my daughter would have told you what we are.”

“You’re vampires.”

Lord Harkon’s smirk widened a bit. “Not just vampires. We are among the oldest and most powerful vampires in Skyrim.” He then began to pace in a small circle. “For centuries we lived here, far from the cares of the world. All that ended when my wife betrayed me and stole what I valued most.” Ko’Junar couldn’t help but wonder if he was referring to the Elder Scroll again.

“This one wonders what happens next,” Ko’Junar ventured slowly, hesitantly.

“You have done me a great service and you must be rewarded,” Lord Harkon agreed smoothly. “There is but one gift that I can give that is equal in value to the Elder Scroll and my daughter.” Ko’Junar’s eyes brightened and her tail swept back and forth. Was he offering her a favor? Could he bring her back to Elsweyr? He looked quite wealthy and spoke with a bold voice, after all.

Lord Harkon spread his arms in a half-shrug. “I offer you my blood. Take it, and you will walk as a lion among sheep. Men will tremble at your approach, and you will never fear death again.”

Again, the feeling of ants crawling through her fur, biting her with icy pinchers, caused her to suppress a shudder. “What if Ko’Junar refuses?”

“Then you will be prey, like all mortals,” Lord Harkon stated simply, as if explaining to her what happened when you put a pot of water above a fire. “I will spare your life this once, but you will be banished from this hall.” His smile returned, this time in a wide sneer. “Perhaps you still need convincing? Behold the power!” He shuttered and lurched forward, a hand on his chest. His skin turned red and dark cracks split through his clothes and flesh. Then, he seemed to explode as wings, thick with smooth skin but lined by only a row of small feathers, burst from his back. His fingers turned to talons, fangs grew thicker and longer, and his face flattened. He outgrew his old clothes, forming new ones in a grand, ritualistic design. On his head, horns curled up and mixed with a circlet so fine that it was hard to tell if his horns were a shining gold or if he had horns at all.

The khajiit jumped and bristled, her fur on end and twitchy tail whipping violently back and forth. She hardly suppressed a cry of panic at the sudden, violent transformation.

Lord Harkon went on with a voice that roared, “This is the power that I offer. Now, make your choice.” His voice smoothed and quieted to a low, menacing growl.

Ko’Junar looked him up and down. Vampires could not go into the sun. A khajiit that could not feel the sun on their fur? Was there a sadder thought? Scrambling to find her voice, she started to speak, but her words came out as a squeak. She stood up straight and forced her tail to stay still, though her bristled fur betrayed her fear. “Ko’Junar refuses your offer. She does not wish to become a vampire.”

“So be it,” he growled. His wings stretched and then flapped once. The vampire lord hovered a few inches off the ground, his talon-tipped toes just an inch or so from the carpeted floor. “You are prey, like all mortals. I banish you.” He raised on clawed hand. Purple energy like that of a summoning spell swelled in his palm.

 

Snow fluttered around Ko’Junar, landing on her exposed muzzle and her chilling armor. She let out a small groan and forced herself to sit up, a hand on her head. Her narrowed, bleary eyes concentrated on the icy ground beneath her, but she stayed dizzy. After a few moments, her head cleared, and she could see her surroundings once again. The boat was before her. Behind her was the bridge.

She jumped to her feet and, not bothering to test the boat to see if it could hold her, hopped into the vessel and pushed away. The stench of blood stuck in her nostrils. Her ears rang with the sounds of their feasting and the roar of Lord Harkon’s voice, both as mortal and as monster. Every time she blinked, she could see his massive, menacing form burned into her eyelids.

Once Ko’Junar made it to shore, she tied the boat and hopped onto land. Her horse snorted as she rubbed up against him, feeling his mane with her gloved fingers and pressing her cheek against his head. He let out a worried knicker, but she purred and stroked his neck to sooth him. “Remind khajiit to never go back, Cloudmane. At least, not alone. Now Ko’Junar and Cloudmane must hurry back to Falkreath to speak with Isran.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ko'Junar is an aquaphobic khajiit who was a former healer-mage-turned-thief. She's an archer but will use an ax and shield in close combat. She's also a scavenger, finding many of her weapons and armor from those whom she killed or raiding forts of people whom she's defeated or snuck past. She first woke up on a caravan to Helgen with the leader of the Stormcloak rebellion all tied up and ready to kill with no knowledge of how she got there. Ever since then, she's been desperately scraping up funds to go back to Elsweyr.


End file.
